


on trust and biscuit tins

by lexicalbehemoth (lyricalleviathan)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 04:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20109304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalleviathan/pseuds/lexicalbehemoth
Summary: Crowley made it a habit to visit Aziraphale often after the Apocalypse-That-Wasn't, though there's something to this particular visit that felt rather peculiar.The offering of a biscuit tin, perhaps, didn't help matters.





	on trust and biscuit tins

Aziraphale watched as his friend of over six millennia paced in the back of his bookshop, half-circling the couch before going around and back again. It wasn’t anything new for Crowley to be so frenetic, for all that he tried to play at coolness- he’d always had a tendency to work himself up whenever he got curious about something, or he wanted _Aziraphale_ to be curious about something.

Still, he had to ask for politeness’ sake. It wouldn’t do to let his demon murmur his hours away to himself while Aziraphale just watched him do so, and all while enjoying the biscuits he’d brought with him.

He asked, "Was there a reason for the visit, my dear?"

Crowley paused where he was behind the couch, hands freezing from their fidgeting as he tucked them back into his pockets. It was clear as day how he sunk back into his usual attempt at calm, though Aziraphale has often let it be that Crowley likely thought him to be unaware of the façade.

Not that Aziraphale would correct him on that matter, of course.

"Do I need a reason for a visit? I come by all the time, now," Crowley said, the "_ever since the Apocalypse was cancelled_" remaining unsaid.

And it was true, how often he’d been coming around. It was as if the dam preventing either of them from meeting each other more often (and it was a rather big dam, Heaven and Hell being rather…overlarge barriers) had broken and Crowley took to visiting as often as he’d like, which seemed to be always.

"No, of course not," he said softly, attempting to soothe him as he set away the tin of biscuits. He hesitated, unsure with his options; should he be direct with him regarding his concern, or should he let him take his time to build up to it?

Well.

He ought to know better by now about taking his time, oughtn't he?

"Dearest," he said, smiling fondly at the visible jolt it earned him. "Did something happen in particular? Something to do with the biscuits, perhaps? Were you worried I wouldn’t like them?"

Crowley turned to him, his down-turned lips and furrowed brows somehow managing to emanate a cautious energy. He said, "Biscuits? No, no, I’m not concerned about the biscuits. I know your taste by now- I wouldn’t go wrong in my choices."

"Oh, Crowley," he sighed. “Has…has Hell contacted you? Is that why you’re acting the way you are?"

"Who said anything about-"

"Crowley," spoke the angel more firmly. "I know you believe me to be somewhat oblivious to certain matters, but I am not oblivious to you. You are one of my constants in the six millennia we've had on this earth, and I will not take your fibbing at me when it's clear you're troubled by something!"

Crowley visibly swallowed, more a nervous action than anything necessary. "Ah..."

Aziraphale cleared his throat, before straightening up from his place in his chair. He said, more calmly, "Now then. What has happened that you're fretting so, and you hesitate to tell me?"

“…you know, I hadn’t expected you’d notice given how much you denied so many things about us before.”

He frowned at that, though he didn’t disagree. It was true, after all, how often he’d deny or ignore the truth that was always right in front of him. He said, “I know. I can’t say I’m sorry for it, either.”

“Angel…”

“I had my reasons,” he said in a murmur, meeting Crowley’s eyes through his sunglasses. “I won’t ask you to forgive them. But I’m trying to make up for it, my dear, and I’d like it if you would trust me in this.”

Crowley frowned at him, seemingly bemused. “I’ve always trusted you.”

Well now. Aziraphale smiled at him, his entire being fit to burst with all the love he felt from Crowley’s words. For all that anyone could easily say they’d trust an angel because of what they were in essence (that is, a pure, holy being), Crowley knew _exactly_ how bastardly angels could be themselves.

He trusted Aziraphale because he was Aziraphale.

And wasn’t that something?

He asked, “What was it, then? The matter that has you acting so agitatedly?”

“Was I,” Crowley said lamely, visibly forcing himself to still as he sat back and draped himself over the couch. “It’s, uh.”

“Yes?”

“They talked to me.”

“They..?”

Crowley pointed up with both index fingers, making a show of calm as he leaned back into Aziraphale’s couch. “Them.”

His eyes widened at the implications. “She talked to you directly?”

“_Well_,” Crowley said, pitch rising a little, “Their voice was there, and there was a Heavenly light, so. Yeah? Yeah.”

Aziraphale gawped at him. Crowley, for all that he was imitating nonchalance on his couch, radiated an anxious energy from his jittery foot alone as he looked up at the ceiling, then to the left. For good reason too, given what he just said; Aziraphale couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been able to hear Her directly, what with Metatron taking up the position of official spokesperson.

“What, er.” He cleared his throat. “What did She say?”

“They know about us.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. He fidgeted slightly with his ring, unsure, even more so with Crowley’s stiff expression. What was he to assume from Her knowing, really? He said eventually, “I imagine She would, since Heaven and Hell haven’t been particularly pleased with us. But…did she say anything in particular, besides that?”

“To not waste our time,” Crowley croaked out, voice coming out shaky, “and, uh. Er.”

“Crowley?”

“To look after each other, because we’ll need it. Each other, that is.”

“That sounds…ominous,” Aziraphale murmured, watching as Crowley slunk further and further down his couch until his feet reached Aziraphale’s own. “Doesn’t it?”

“It does, is the thing I’m concerned about,” Crowley admitted, frowning as he folded his arms over his chest. “I can’t take it lightly since it came from Them directly. Not exactly something I can just call bull by the archangels, is it? So it seems my assumption on the last one being breathing space was right.”

“Oh dear.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Crowley said, mocking a light tone, “They congratulated us on finding each other. Probably made some sense with their convoluted view of what’s good and all. Love being found in the midst of chaos, or whatever else They’d call it.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tutted, frowning at the sarcasm towards Her. “Be careful of what you say- this isn’t another archangel you can just intimidate into backing off.”

Crowley shrugged, somehow emphasizing further how tense his shoulders were. “I’ve had a rough day after that whole talk, and the Almighty essentially approved of us as partners; at this point I feel like I’ve got not much else to lose, and everything’s gone crazy.”

“And myself?”

“Er.”

“I have you to lose, my dear,” Aziraphale said softly, watching the visible way Crowley melted into the couch at his words. “And I’d like it if you were careful.”

Crowley grunted a noise of assent, and he smiled.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “even if there were to be a war we couldn’t stop ourselves, we’d still have each other. Our side being what it is- with humanity and their courage.” He leaned forward to hold out a hand, and Crowley, seeming for lack of a better thing to do in response, clasped their hands together.

He made an odd, inexplicable sound when Aziraphale leaned down to press a kiss to his knuckles, to which the angel smiled. He said, “I think we'll be fine. I believe in your belief, darling.”

Crowley stared at him, looking as if he were trying to find answers in Aziraphale’s eyes, then chuckled. He didn’t bother to hesitate when he pulled Aziraphale’s hand to himself this time, pressing a kiss to his knuckles as he’d done for him.

“And I believe in us, so I suppose they’ll just have to look out, hm?”

Aziraphale laughed.

“Exactly so, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was: "here's some cookies, and also some really bad news"
> 
> thank you so much for reading! if ever you have any suggestions, things that you liked about the fic, or anything else- I would most definitely appreciate if you left a comment! ♥
> 
> feel free to peruse [my twitter](https://twitter.com/lexicalbehemoth) as well, if you'd like!


End file.
